


The Party

by howardtduck48



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22633321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howardtduck48/pseuds/howardtduck48
Summary: What if Otis didn't get a chance to rant at his party?
Relationships: Otis Milburn/Maeve Wiley, Otis Milburn/Ola Nyman
Comments: 10
Kudos: 110





	The Party

**Author's Note:**

> This began as the second scenario for 'Variations On A Theme' but it just grew beyond anything I had expected so I've decided to make it a separate story.
> 
> I'm not sure I quite captured Ruby's personality (understatement) but the scene amused me.
> 
> As always, I hope there's some enjoyment to be found.

**The Party: Chapter 1**

Otis swayed on the couch and wondered when the earthquake had started then realized there were no earthquakes here and it was the waves rising and falling that were leaving him unsteady on his feet. He didn't stop to think – probably couldn't at this point – that he was still on dry ground and dad had sold their boat years ago.

"Excuse me, everyone! Everyone, come and look at me," he slurred. "I have an announcement to make."

He frowned, wondering if he was actually making any sounds or just mouthing because he couldn't hear his words and then he realized what that noise was and shouted across the room, "Can we turn the music down?"

Ahh, that's better, he thought when he could hear himself think and why was he standing on a sponge and why was everyone else so low and what was he doing? Oh, that's right.

"Um, I wanna say something to my party guests," he said and nodded to himself and wondered what he was wanting to say to his party guests and was that someone calling his name?

"No."

No? Alright, it wasn't and what was he—oh, yeah, there they were, the pretty one and the other pretty one and that's what he was going to—

"Zelda's pants!"

"Um, so this is—" he began then yelped as a brick wall hit him and the world switched upside down and ouch, was that the floor hitting him in the back of his head and why was there a ten-ton weight on him and who's yelling?

"Zelda's pants, Otis! Zelda's pants!"

"Eric?"

"Zelda's pants! Zelda's pants!"

Oh, Eric was the ten-ton weight and who's Zelda? He didn't invite Zelda. He didn't know Zelda.

"Zelda's pants!"

Oh, yeah, he did know Zelda.

"Zelda's pants!"

Eric's face was so close to his that Otis could see the fillings in his top row and the hairs in his nostrils and then he remembered how he knew Zelda.

"Zelda's pants," said Eric, quieter this time.

"My head hurts," Otis said.

"Sorry," murmured Eric.

"You're heavy," said Otis, wondering if Eric was always that blurry when he was this close. Did he need glasses?

"Do you understand, Otis? Zelda's pants!"

"I think you're breaking my ribs," Otis said then released a gasp as the ten-ton weight vanished.

"Do you understand?" Eric repeated.

"Yes," Otis said, petulantly.

Eric reached out his hand and Otis grasped it and rose unsteadily to his feet, wondering why the room was still wobbling.

"Do you have a cup?" Otis asked. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"We'll go outside," Eric said, quietly, glancing apologetically across the room at Rahim.

Rahim did not look happy.

* * *

Eric led Otis past a disgusted Ola and a horrified Maeve just as the music began playing again.

Otis looked between them and raised his finger to point at first Ola – "The pretty one" – and then Maeve – "The other pretty one."

Eric looked at both of them and murmured, "Otis really needs to talk to you. Jean's office?"

Maeve nodded, unable to wipe the disturbed look from her face.

"We'll just be a few minutes," Eric said then led Otis away, murmuring, "Just hold it in a few more steps. Jean will kill you if you throw up on anything important and I'll kill you if you throw up on me."

Ola glanced at Maeve then muttered, "I don't need to put up with this shit. You can have him."

Maeve watched as Ola started walking away. "Ola, wait. Please. Ola, please."

Ola turned, glaring at Maeve.

"I have never seen Eric like that," said Maeve, pleading with her eyes as well. "Please, just…"

Ola glared at Maeve, lips pressed together.

"Please," repeated Maeve. "It shouldn't take too long."

Ola sighed. "Okay," she muttered. "I'll listen."

"Thanks," Maeve murmured.

Ola turned back and started walking past Maeve. "Coming?"

"In a minute," Maeve said.

Ola shrugged and started to leave the room.

"Where's Jean's office?" Maeve asked.

Ola turned around, surprised. "You've never been here?"

Maeve shook her head. "First time."

"It's just through here. Her name's on the door, but we'll probably be in the room next to it."

"Thanks."

"I'll just kick out the people shagging in her office," Ola said.

Ola left the room and Maeve glanced at Isaac who was sitting in his chair, observing everything.

"Well, that looked like it was going to be interesting," he said. "Does yer man there play rugby because that was some righteous tackle?"

Maeve looked around the room and was relieved to see Steve approaching her. She was too agitated to recognize the hurt etched into his face.

"You're not seriously going to listen to whatever intense scary boy is going to say?" Isaac said behind her. "Doubt he could string two coherent syllables together never mind a thought."

Maeve spun around and furiously snapped, "One more fucking word and I will gut you."

Isaac flinched and stared into her face. The fury he saw etched there only made her seem more beautiful and he wistfully wondered if she could ever have felt that protective toward and concerned about him.

He nodded, understanding he would never find out. Whatever the outcome of tonight, he would never mean as much to her as that pale geeky kid did.

He wished he hadn't come. He knew she was only ever a long shot but it was better to have a dream intact than to watch it shattering right before his eyes.

Maeve turned away as Steve approached.

"Oh, Steve," she said, relieved.

"Aimee's left," Steve said, distressed.

"What?" Maeve asked.

"She said she didn't want a boyfriend," Steve said.

"Oh, Steve, it's not—" Maeve began.

"I just want to help, Maeve. I just… I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"It's not you, Steve. It's not personal. You're doing great. Better than a lot of guys."

Steve dropped his head. "Sorry. Me me me. Shitty. It's Aimee that matters."

Maeve pressed her lips together, thinking Aimee really was one of the lucky ones.

"Just give her time," she murmured.

Steve nodded, glumly.

"Look, I'll give her a call. Make sure she's okay," Maeve said and reached into her pocket for her phone. She hissed then checked her other pocket.

Shit. She'd left her phone behind again. Ever since Erin came back she had been doing it more and more and she understood it was so she didn't have to deal with her mother when she was supposed to be on her own time but it didn't help when something like this happened.

"Forgot my phone," she said to Steve. "She'll be fine. I'll talk to her in the morning."

Steve nodded, not quite mollified but understanding this was the best result at the moment.

"Can you do me a favour? Babysit him," Maeve said, nodding her head in Isaac's direction.

"Can you change my nappy?" Isaac said. "I done number two."

Maeve glared at Isaac then handed her bottle of bourbon to Steve. "Don't let him drink too much. I don't know his limit."

"I can drink you under the applecart," Isaac said.

"I hope this won't take too long," Maeve said. "Depends on what Otis has to say."

"You're talking again?" Steve asked, hopeful.

"We'll see," Maeve said and turned to Isaac. "Don't be mean."

"It's amazing how even smart people can mistake being honest for being mean," Isaac said.

Maeve glowered at him. "It's amazing how many arseholes can mistake being mean for being honest," she said then walked away.

Steve glanced between the two of them then sat next to Isaac and asked, "Do you want a drink?"

Isaac watched Maeve's retreating figure and nodded. Steve leant over and let him sip from the bottle.

"Thanks," said Isaac.

They settled into an uncomfortable silence. Isaac glanced at the distracted Steve and smirked to himself.

"Who's the red babe in the corner with the lip dragging on the floor?" he eventually asked.

Steve looked over and recognized who Isaac was referring to.

"That's Ruby," said Steve. "She's one of the Untouchables."

"A few minutes ago she was sure looking as if she wanted yer man Otis to touch her untouchables," Isaac said.

Steve shook his head, horrifiedly amused. "Ruby and Otis? No way."

"Another two minutes on the couch and she would have dragged yer man off it and probably given us all a floorshow."

"There is no way Otis and Ruby would ever ever be doing any of that," Steve said.

* * *

Maeve entered Jean's office – no, this looked like it was the consulting room – and saw the others were already present.

Otis sat in what was probably his mother's chair holding a glass of water in his hand. Eric leant against the desk by the window looking uncharacteristically subdued. Ola sat in one of the chairs opposite Otis – though not directly opposite Otis – and glanced at Maeve, muttering, "About time."

Maeve ignored her and sat opposite Otis, staring at him, feeling mixed emotions run through her when he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Great, we're all here," began Eric, seemingly coming back to life. "We can start."

"What are you expecting from this, Eric?" Otis asked, flatly.

"I'm expecting there to be lots of 'I' words - 'I feel' – and lots less drunken ranting that wouldn't do anybody any good," Eric said.

"What the fuck was that 'Zelda' thing?" Ola asked, clearly still annoyed.

"My warning word," Otis muttered.

"What?" Ola asked.

"It was two words," Maeve murmured.

"Alright," Otis snapped and Maeve set her jaw. "It was my warning phrase, my warning term. It's the thing Eric can use to tell me if I'm going too far and I have to stop immediately."

"Otis," Eric warned. "Zelda's pants."

Otis took a few deep breaths and sipped his water.

"Who's Zelda?" Maeve asked.

"Game character," Ola said. "Otis loves playing Zelda games."

Maeve glared at Ola, pouting.

"Okay," said Eric, "since it's two against one I think Otis should go first. Everybody with me?"

"What is this, Eric?" Maeve asked.

"This is a safe space, I hope," said Eric, "and we are going to allow everyone the freedom to express themselves in a calm, safe manner. No accusations. No 'You did' but 'When you did, I felt'. That's it, isn't it, Otis?"

"Close enough," Otis said.

"What's the point?" asked Ola.

"Well, you all still want to be friends, don't you?" Eric said.

Ola glanced at Maeve and muttered, "Do we?"

Maeve ignored her as best she could.

"Of course, we do," Eric said, uncertainly.

"Why?" asked Otis, bitterly. "Ola just wanted to control me so she could shred me once she had me under her boot and Maeve just loved playing with my feelings."

"What?" said Ola, startled.

"What?" said Maeve, startled.

"Otis," warned Eric.

Otis glared at Ola, gesturing his upraised palm in her direction. "You told me I couldn't see Maeve anymore if I wanted to be your girlfriend and so I tell Maeve I can't see her anymore—"

"You texted me," Maeve murmured quietly to herself, unheard by anyone else.

"—And then I come and tell you I love you because I want to be with you," Otis continued, "and you tell me 'Oh, sorry. I don't love you. Okay? Byeee.'"

"Feeling words," said Eric plaintively.

"You got a message from her when we were about to lose our virginity together and you lied to me that it was from your mum," said Ola.

Maeve glanced between Ola and Otis, shocked, then closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, feeling the rawness in her throat.

"How shitty do you think that made me feel, Otis?" asked Ola bitterly.

"That's good, Ola. Feeling words," said Eric.

"I thought maybe you were spending your time at your fucking clinic thing making out with her and you were lying to me because you wanted to bag a virgin girl," Ola said.

"I wasn't—" Otis protested.

"We weren't—" Maeve murmured.

"Why would I believe that? She's been trying to get you from me since the dance," Ola said.

"What?" said Otis, frowning.

Maeve crumpled in on herself.

"She was with that Jackson guy but she tried to get between you and me," Ola said, turning to Maeve. "He _was_ your boyfriend, right?"

Maeve glanced resentfully at Ola then looked away.

"Maeve…?" Otis asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"Everything changed between us every time she was around," Ola said. "You changed."

"Um, I don't think we've started this off right. Why don't we start again?" Eric said.

"Shut up, Eric. This isn't some bullshit therapy session and you're not a fucking conciliator," Otis snapped then immediately cringed at himself. He looked up at Eric, saw his friend's cold eyes and clenched jaw. "I'm sorry, Eric," he said quietly.

Eric was quiet for a moment then said, as evenly as he could, "You are a monster when you drink, Otis."

"I'm sorry," Otis repeated.

"I think this was a mistake, Eric," Maeve said quietly.

"Yeah," Eric said, sadly.

"No, no," said Ola. "I want to do this."

Maeve snorted.

"Is that kid out there your boyfriend?" Ola asked. "Does cheating give it an extra kick? Were you after Otis because you really liked him or was it just the idea of being worshipped as a lion that got your rocks off?"

"Fuck off," Maeve sneered.

"You fuck off, cockbiter," Ola snarled.

Maeve flinched as if slapped.

"Don't call Maeve a cockbiter," Otis snapped.

Ola sank back into her chair, wishing she could take it back. She looked across at Maeve who was giving her a furious glare, jaw clenched. Ola opened her mouth to speak and Maeve stood, striding toward the door.

"Maeve…?" Eric called, distressed.

Maeve waved her hands dismissively. "Having a cigarette," she said, departing the room, slamming the door behind herself.

Eric looked at Ola, shaking his head. "Not cool, Ola," he said.

"I'm sorry," Ola said. "I should go—"

"Let her have her cigarette," Otis said, subdued.

"She's not going to leave?" Ola asked.

Otis shook his head. "She would have said. We're not worth lying to."

"So what now?" Ola asked after a few moments of silence.

"Do you two still want to talk it out?" Eric asked, quietly.

"I do," Otis said after a moment, "if Ola's willing."

Ola thought for a moment and nodded.

"But I don't think we need a conciliator anymore," Otis continued. "Thanks, Eric."

Eric studied Otis then nodded.

"Unless you want him to stay, Ola?" Otis amended, hastily.

Ola shook her head. "It's fine."

"I'll leave you two, then," Eric said and walked from the room.

Ola and Otis looked at each other.

"Do you want to go first?" Otis asked.

"You can," Ola said. "I think my mouth needs to take a rest for the moment."

Otis gave her a small sad smile and gathered his thoughts. "I'm sorry I lied to you. About who the text was from."

"Can I give you some advice, Otis?" Ola asked, quietly.

Otis nodded.

"If you're getting naked with a girl, don't check your phone," Ola said.

Otis gave her a wry smile. "I'll remember that."

"Good," Ola said.

Otis took a deep breath and spoke slowly, carefully. "I really liked you, Ola. I really had a lot of fun with you. But when you forced me to choose between you and Maeve's friendship, I felt really angry."

Ola nodded, face neutral.

"I hadn't been doing anything with Maeve, just being her friend and I hadn't asked her to tell me how she felt and even though I did lie, in the moment, unplanned because she really fucked with my mind telling me that right then and I hadn't had a chance to process it, I thought that giving me an ultimatum was really selfish of you and we should have talked about things first."

Ola nodded again, still keeping her face neutral.

"And when I told Maeve I couldn't see her anymore and I came to you and told you I loved you and you laughed and you said you definitely didn't love me and you broke up with me and then you were all 'Oh, dear, let me give you a hug' as if you weren't really thinking about how I would be feeling at that moment—" Otis caught his rising tone and stopped and took a deep breath before continuing, much calmer. "I thought you had been fucking with me. That it hadn't been about wanting to be with me but it was about wanting to beat Maeve because… I don't know… because of all that shit I said at the dance. Because she fucked up our first time. Whatever."

Ola hitched a breath and swallowed and pressed her lips tightly together.

"And when you said I was uptight, I felt... I felt as if you really had been using me because you knew what I was like at the dance so if we were incompatible now then you knew we were incompatible then and you still agreed to be my girlfriend so why else would you do that other than using me?"

Ola took a few deep breaths and watched as Otis took a large drink of water from his glass and sat back in the chair, looking steadily at her.

"It's your turn now," he said quietly. "If we're doing this formally."

"So do I respond to what you've said or do my own 'I felts'?" Ola asked.

"Either," said Otis. "Both. Whichever you prefer."

Ola nodded and took a few more calming breaths while she gathered her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I shouldn't have given you an ultimatum. That was wrong. We should have discussed it."

Otis nodded, letting her know he appreciated her words.

"But like I said," she continued, "when you lied to me, I felt like shit. Like you were confirming all the… niggling little thoughts I'd had ever since the dance. That you were only with me because you couldn't have Maeve. That I was who you were settling for and that you didn't really like me the way I liked you."

Otis pressed his lips together and swallowed.

"And so when I gave you the ultimatum, I _was_ trying to beat Maeve in the sense that I wanted you to prove that you did care about me more than you cared about her. That I mattered to you."

Otis nodded, hoping he was letting Ola know he was hearing her.

"And, yes, when you said you loved me and I realized that even though I liked you I wasn't actually in love with you, I can now understand why you would be angry and how it would have felt for you and I'm sorry I couldn't have done that better."

Otis nodded, again hoping that Ola could see that he appreciated her words.

"Should I keep going?" Ola asked. "Or is that enough?"

"If you've got more to say, Ola…" Otis said.

Ola nodded and took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts. "When you asked me to come over to pick up some stuff, I thought it might have been some clothes or some of my old music I left behind. And when I got here and there was a party and you hadn't actually invited me, just said pick up some stuff, I thought you were just trying to rub my nose in it."

Otis inhaled a soft breath and swallowed.

"And then when I saw you had invited Maeve but hadn't invited me, I thought you were really trying to make me feel like shit," Ola continued.

Otis' breath hitched.

"And then when you said you didn't want the cup with our faces on it, I felt you were telling me that our entire relationship was worthless and I never meant anything to you."

"I'm sorry, Ola," Otis murmured.

Ola looked at him and nodded.

"I _was_ trying to…" Otis swallowed and blinked then forced himself to continue. "Hurt you. I didn't know Eric had invited Maeve until after I called you – I didn't know he'd invited anybody – but once the party was happening, I did want you to see it. That I could be chill. That I could be spontaneous."

Ola pressed her lips together and nodded.

"And I do like that cup but it hurts to look at it," Otis continued. "And I _was_ trying to hurt you with it but our relationship wasn't worthless and you do mean something to me."

Ola drew in a soft breath.

"I'm still hurting, Ola. I'm still hurting," he continued. "But I'm sorry I didn't just deal with it and not try to take it out on you."

Otis fell silent and Ola waited as long as she could.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"I don't have more at the moment," Otis said. "Unless there's something you want me to address."

Ola thought for a moment then said, "No."

"Do you think we resolved anything?" Otis asked.

Ola thought for a moment then said, "I think so."

"Yeah," Otis nodded. "I think I have. For me."

"Is this what you do with your mum?" Ola asked.

"Sometimes," Otis said. "Usually about just one thing, not a whole heap."

Ola nodded and took a few more breaths. "Does it mean we're going to be able to be friends?"

Otis looked at the floor for a moment then returned his gaze to her and nodded. "Yeah, I think so. In time."

"Good," Ola said.

There was a not-too-uncomfortable silence between them for a few moments.

"Zelda's pants?" Ola eventually asked, face scrunched.

"Haven't you ever had sexual thoughts about animated characters?" Otis said, defensively.

Ola thought for a moment. "He-Man," she said sheepishly. "I used to think about polishing his sword but I was too young to understand what that meant."

* * *

Eric was about to step out onto the upper balcony when he felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Rahim.

"Eric…?" Rahim said.

"I'm sorry," Eric said, apologetically. "I'll just be a few minutes."

"This is not your concern," Rahim said.

Eric frowned, not understanding. "Otis is my friend."

"And he needs to make his mistakes so he can learn from them," Rahim said.

Eric blinked in surprise. "Aren't friends supposed to stop friends from making mistakes?"

"No, we pick them up after they fall. We don't catch them before they drop. Nobody learns from things that don't happen," Rahim said.

"I…" said Eric, flummoxed. "I don't…"

"Come. Let's dance. Let them sort it out themselves," Rahim said.

"No," said Eric, as if seeing Rahim for the first time.

"We came to dance. Drink. Enjoy. Not play nursery maid."

"Don't make me choose, Rahim," Eric said, quietly. "I've seen the shit that happens when someone makes someone choose."

Rahim pouted and released Eric's arm. "Go," he said, petulantly.

Eric glanced down at where Rahim's hand had been then looked into Rahim's unhappy face. He glanced over at Maeve leaning against the balcony railing, gazing across the green view before her and was tempted not to try, then he turned back to Rahim, leaned in so their noses were playing and murmured, "I won't be long and then…" He bit his lip, tried to stop his smile becoming too broad. "I know where the quiet rooms are. We won't be disturbed."

He kissed Rahim and after a moment Rahim responded, pout turning into a small smile.

"Go," said Rahim. "Hurry back."

Eric smiled and said, "Yeah," then watched as Rahim walked back across the room to wait.

Eric turned, looked at Maeve, took a deep breath then walked over to her and leant on the railing next to her.

"I think I fucked up," Eric said.

"You tried," said Maeve, quietly.

"I don't know why he's being an idiot," Eric said. "I told him he should just talk to you."

"Comes with his territory, doesn't it? Savant there, idiot here."

Eric glanced at the party inside the house and scrunched his face. "I shouldn't have invited everybody. I should have just invited you."

"Might have made it easier to have a quiet conversation," Maeve murmured.

"He didn't mean what he said in the text."

Maeve shrugged. "He sent it."

Eric looked across the green expanse before them, eyes wandering across the river.

"Did Otis tell you his dad paid a visit?" Eric asked.

Maeve shook her head. "We didn't hang out much even before..."

"We went camping. The three of us," Eric said.

Maeve tossed her cigarette butt on the floorboards, stamped on it.

"Have you ever seen a grown man karate kick one of those inflatable tents?" Eric asked. "It was pathetic."

Maeve looked at him, frowning. "What?"

"His dad told us his wife left him. Cheated on him. He was having a rough time."

Maeve lit another cigarette, wondering why Eric was telling her this.

"You came up," Eric said.

"What?" Maeve asked.

"The whole situation with you and…"

Maeve nodded, took a drag of her cigarette.

"I said he should choose you," Eric said.

Maeve glanced at him, pressed her lips together in an approximation of a smile.

"Remi said the heart wants what the heart wants but sometimes you're with the wrong person," Eric said.

Maeve looked at the ground below, frowning.

"Next morning, we found out Remi had cheated on his wife and she left him. Like he did with Jean and the others. And he shacked up with the hotel receptionist for the night, took her number."

Maeve tilted her head to look at Eric out of the corner of her eye.

"Then Otis sent the text message," Eric sighed.

Maeve swallowed, blinked.

"He didn't want to be his dad," Eric said softly.

"I got it," Maeve said.

Eric turned to look directly at her and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Thanks," Maeve said. "Go on back to Rahim. Find a quiet room."

"He loves you," Eric said, gently. "And you can quote me on that."

Maeve turned away to hide her trembling lips.

"No, don't quote me on that," Eric amended nervously. "I shouldn't have said that. I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

Maeve turned to him, smiling softly. "Fuck off, Eric," she said gently.

Eric blinked. "Even with a smile that was really scary."

* * *

Eric stepped back inside and looked around the room for Rahim. His eyes alighted on Ola who was standing in the doorway near Jean's office, watching him.

Ola slowly walked over to Eric, glanced outside to Maeve on the balcony and then looked quizzically into Eric's face.

Eric glanced back at Maeve and turned to Ola, nodding. "I think so."

"Thanks, Eric," Ola said.

Eric glanced in the direction of Jean's office then asked, "Did you two…?"

Ola nodded. "I think we're going to be able to be friends. Given time."

"Good," said Eric, quietly pleased.

"I think I'm going to leave after this, so… bye. I'll see you at school," Ola said, patting his arm.

Eric nodded. "Bye," he said quietly and turned and watched Ola as she stepped out onto the upper balcony. He glanced at Maeve, wondering if this was going to be a mistake then turned and scoured the room for Rahim.

He noticed Ruby was looking really unhappy, alone in the corner chair.

* * *

Ola stood outside the balcony door and stared across at Maeve leaning over the railing, noticing the smoke curling upwards. She took a deep silent breath and steeled herself.

"I'm sorry," Ola said.

She noticed Maeve's back straighten, her entire body tense up and Ola took another deep breath then walked to the railing to stand beside Maeve, looking up at her.

"I mean, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That was a really shitty thing to say," she said.

She noticed Maeve's jaw was clenched and she was staring into the far distance.

"I'd heard it and I used it but I didn't mean it and I was horrible for saying it," Ola said.

Maeve took a puff of her cigarette.

"I'm all 'women supporting women'" Ola continued, "but I could still say that to you. I'm really sorry, Maeve, and I hope one day you can forgive me."

Ola started to walk away but stopped when Maeve spoke.

"You must really dislike me."

Ola turned and looked at Maeve who was studiously surveying the horizon, then she stepped back toward the railing.

"I dislike what you did," Ola said.

Ola watched a multitude of expressions flicker across Maeve's face.

"I'm sorry," the taller girl eventually said. "I shouldn't have done it."

Ola nodded and pondered. "Did you do it because you like him or you just wanted to prove you could do it?"

Maeve pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to the ground below.

"Because you like him," Ola murmured.

Ola noticed Maeve swallow, press her lips together.

"How long have you known Otis?" Ola asked.

"Saw him first day of kindergarten. He looked so freakishly pale and I think he's still wearing the same fucking jacket."

"I think it might be a bit small for him now, if it was," Ola said, softly smirking.

"He's been in a lot of my classes. I noticed him a lot," Maeve said.

Ola nodded to herself.

"Didn't speak to him until this year," Maeve said.

Ola blinked in surprise. "Seriously?"

"Well, except for "Out of my fucking way, dickhead" or "Throw me the fucking ball, dickstain," if they count."

Ola smiled softly to herself for a moment then looked curiously at Maeve. "Why didn't you tell him how you felt once you broke up with Jackson? I wasn't with him then, was I?"

"No," said Maeve, shaking her head. "You weren't with him when I broke up with Jackson."

"So why didn't you tell him?" Ola asked, quietly then sighed. "I know it's not my business…"

"I did go to his place once to tell him," Maeve said.

"Why didn't you?"

"You were kissing him."

Ola's mouth dropped open and she sighed.

"Lousy timing," Maeve murmured.

Ola pursed her lips, pondering. "He does like you."

"I've been told."

"I could tell you two had something when we first met," Ola said.

Maeve looked at her, curiously.

"There was a vibe between you. I asked Otis if you'd dated," Ola said. "He said you'd never date him."

"He's an idiot," Maeve muttered.

"Yeah," Ola said.

"Did you two sort things?" Maeve asked.

"We're hoping we can still be friends. Once things settle down," Ola said.

Maeve nodded.

"Do you mind?" Ola asked, cautiously.

Maeve shook her head. "No."

Ola nodded and took a breath. "I should go."

"What would you have done if positions were reversed?" Maeve asked.

Ola took in a breath and thought for a moment. "I hope I would have waited until he became single again and told him then."

"What if he never became single?" Maeve asked.

"Then I hope I would have been able to move on and meet someone else who made me feel the same way," said Ola.

Maeve nodded, sadly.

"I'm really sorry, Maeve," Ola murmured. "I wish I could take it back."

Maeve looked at her and nodded. "I know," she said softly.

Ola swallowed and started to walk away then stopped and scrunched her face and walked back to join Maeve at the railing.

"Do you think we could start again?" Ola asked.

"What?" Maeve asked, puzzled.

"Put aside all the last few months and… start again?"

Maeve stared at her for a moment then understood. "I'll see you in Aptitude class," she said.

Ola nodded, disappointed.

"We're going to be working closely in there," Maeve said. "We need to get along." She faked a bright tone. "As the Quiz Heads say, teamwork gets us everywhere." She punched a fist in front of her in a 'rah-rah' gesture.

"I'm not a Quiz Head," Ola said.

"It's not just for Quiz Heads," Maeve said.

Ola smirked and leaned close to Maeve. "You are not scary, Maeve Wiley. You are a great big faker."

"Say that again and I'll poke your eyes out," Maeve said.

Ola smirked and walked away.

* * *

Otis emerged from his mother's office and sighed. Christ, look at that mess. Mum was going to kill him. A small gathering, he told her. Well, it was only about half the school. That was relatively small, wasn't it?

He walked into the loungeroom, wishing they would turn the music down. He scanned the room, searching for Eric and was disappointed not to see him. He did see Ola, disappearing out the front door, and he wished he hadn't fucked that up and hurt her but, well, they were still going to be friends. Eventually.

He saw an uncomfortable and gloomy Steve sitting next to Isaac and, behind them, Olivia— Was Isaac staring at him? Isaac _was_ staring at him and not in a way that meant they were going to be future friends. Glaring. What was that about?

Puzzled, Otis started to turn and then a red brick wall with what felt like very substantial breasts pressed him back against the doorframe.

"Do you want to dance?" the red brick wall asked.

"Ruby?" Otis asked, puzzled.

"Let's dance. This can be our song," Ruby said.

"Have you been drinking?" Otis asked.

Ruby nodded. "Just enough to feel good. Not too much that I make bad decisions that I'll regret."

Otis stared at Ruby, noting that she did seem to be relaxed but not drunk, noting that her eyes were flickering between his eyes and his lips, noting that she was shoving him around the doorframe until they were out of sight of the rest of the room.

Steve stared at the doorway in shock.

"Told you," Isaac said.

Steve's mouth cycled like a fish out of water.

"Should have made it a bet," Isaac said.

Steve wondered if someone had slipped something into his beer.

"You're catching flies, mate," Isaac said.

Otis was pressed against the wall while Ruby's lips were so close to his.

"Ruby, what's—" Otis began.

"Come on, let's dance, Otis. It's your party. Have fun."

"I don't dance."

"I saw you at the school dance. You had some good moves, Otis."

"Ruby…"

"Or we can just go straight to your room."

"Hunh?" Otis said.

Ruby leant closer and murmured in his ear, "If you want, I'll swallow. I don't do that for everyone."

Otis flinched, startled, and bumped his head on the wall. Ruby gave a sympathetic 'tut' and began gently stroking his hair.

"Connor," said Otis, inspiration striking.

"What?" asked Ruby, frowning.

"Connor is a g… dancer. He's been sitting on the lounge all night. I'm sure he'd love to dance with someone as… supremely attractive as you."

Ruby stared at Otis for a moment then poked her head around the corner, staring at Connor sitting on the lounge holding what looked to be the biggest dildo Ruby had ever seen. It was like a broadsword.

Ruby looked back at Otis. "You don't want to sleep with me?"

"I have something I need to do," said Otis, slowly and carefully.

Ruby glanced around the corner at Connor then back at Otis. She sighed. "Do you think he'll be able to keep it secret?"

"I'm sure Connor will respect your privacy, but if you don't feel he will then I'm sure there are plenty of other people at the party who will help you fulfill the need you obviously have tonight."

"I'm not a slag, Milburn," Ruby said, annoyed.

"I never thought you were," Otis said with such absolute sincerity that Ruby lost her breath for a moment. "There's no such thing as a slag. There's people who desire intimate relations with other specific people under particular circumstances, whether that be in a committed relationship or casually or any other possible combination and as long as there's consent and respect on both sides then there's nothing wrong with that."

Ruby looked at Otis for a long moment then asked, quietly, "Sure I can't convince you to take me upstairs to your room?"

"Sorry," Otis said. "But if things with Connor or whoever work out, you may use it. Top of the stairs, at the end of the corridor. There's condoms in the drawer."

"Left or right?"

Otis thought for a moment. "Left, I think. Or it could be right."

"Never mind. I'll find them."

"I have to go," said Otis, starting to walk away.

"She's on the balcony. Everybody's scared to go near her," Ruby said.

"What?" asked Otis, turning.

"If Wiley doesn't want you, would you reconsider me?"

"What do you mean?" Otis asked, not understanding the source of the first half of the sentence.

"Oh, puh-lease. Everybody knows you like each other," Ruby said, flicking her hair. "Nobody could understand why you were with the oddly pretty one."

"People… know?" Otis asked. "How?"

"It was obvious when you were helping me find out about my photo."

"It was?" asked Otis.

"We all thought you'd just snatch a name out of the air so we could leave the room and you'd start shagging like bunnies."

"You did?" asked Otis.

"You could have just told us it was Olivia and we would have believed you."

"It _was_ Olivia," said Otis.

"Not the point," said Ruby.

Otis tried to process this information.

"Anyway," said Ruby, "if you change your mind, come and talk to me. On the downlow," she amended hastily. "I have a reputation to protect."

Otis sighed and pressed his lips together. "Of course," he said, turning away and rolling his eyes.

Ruby watched him leave then sighed and turned to gaze across the room to the lounge. She shrugged and walked over and sat beside Connor and looked at the object in his hands. It wasn't a dildo. She supposed you could call it a sculpture. Piece of artwork would cover it. God, he'd put a condom on it.

"That's a big one," Ruby said.

Connor looked at her. "Certainly is," he said and Ruby couldn't be sure whether he had been drinking or not.

"Were you the model?" she asked.

"Yes, I was," he said and Ruby wasn't certain if he was leering or grinning.

She turned away and rolled her eyes, gazed wistfully at Maeve and Otis on the balcony then turned back to Connor and put on a smile.

"Do you like dancing?" she asked.

Steve turned to Isaac, mouth dropping open even further.

"I didn't see that one coming," said Isaac.

* * *

Otis stumbled into a chair on the balcony and Maeve gave a startled squeak and turned just in time to see him stumble into the other chair next to it.

"Shit," he said.

"Careful. You trying to kill yourself? Don't. I'm not worth it," said Maeve.

"People have moved them," Otis said, regaining his balance.

He took a breath and straightened and looked at Maeve. When their eyes connected, she realized these last few seconds felt so reminiscent of the times before and then recent events regained supremacy and she looked away, turning back to the railing and gazing across the shadowy shapes of the greenery. She thought – hoped – Otis had been having that same sense of their past. She hoped he could see it as their future, too.

She sensed him lean against the railing and turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Maeve," he said quietly.

"Are we going to do that fucking 'I feels' thing?" she asked.

"Do you want to?" Otis asked.

"I just want to talk," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Otis nodded and then swayed, clutching the railing a little tighter. "Sorry, I'm going to have to sit down."

"You throw up on me, Milburn, and I will throw you off the balcony," Maeve said.

Otis scoffed. "I used to do that as a kid."

Maeve glanced over the balcony and pursed her lips in concern. "Did you break anything?"

"Actually, it was the one on the other side. It's not as high," Otis said as he sat at the table.

Maeve shook her head and sat down opposite him. So far, it hadn't been as bad as she feared.

Otis looked around the table, reached over and shoved the largest, flattest seashell toward Maeve. "Ashtray," he said.

"Thanks," Maeve murmured and ashed in it.

Silence settled over them.

"I'm sorry for doing that to you," Maeve eventually said. "Telling you how I felt when you were in a relationship with someone else."

"Is that what you were going to tell me on your birthday?" Otis asked, quietly.

Maeve nodded. "Would have been better timing."

Otis winced. "What did you expect would happen?"

Maeve shrugged.

"This isn't going to get anywhere if you can't be truthful, Maeve," Otis said quietly.

"Like you weren't truthful with Ola?" Maeve said, then winced and pressed her lips together, annoyed with herself.

Otis breathed deeply and said, "Yeah, I wasn't truthful with Ola. And look where it got me."

Maeve swallowed and lit another cigarette before speaking. "I hoped you would tell me you liked me, too. That you liked me better than you liked Ola and you would choose to be with me."

She looked into Otis' eyes, awaiting judgement.

"I think that was really unfair to me, Maeve. And to Ola," Otis said, quietly. "I wish you hadn't said anything."

Maeve nodded. "Ola said I should have waited until you were single and if you were never single then I should move on and hope I would meet someone I liked as much as I liked you."

"That's what I did," Otis said, then corrected himself. "What I tried to do. I didn't like Ola as much as I liked you but I tried to convince myself that I did. That I could."

"Was that fair to Ola?" Maeve said, then winced again. "Sorry," she murmured.

Otis nodded and took a few deep breaths. "No, it wasn't fair to Ola," he said.

"Is that why you said I was playing with your feelings?" Maeve asked, quietly. Otis could hear the hurt in her voice.

Otis sat forward, took another deep breath. "Jackson said you broke up with him because you were in love with me. Why didn't you come and tell me then?"

Maeve snorted softly. "Ola asked me the same question."

"What did you tell her?"

"Do you remember the day you gave me the trophy?"

"Yes," Otis said without hesitation.

"Do you remember what else happened that day?" Maeve asked.

Otis thought for a moment then the realization hit and he looked at Maeve, stunned.

Maeve smiled grimly. "I came over to tell you and you were kissing Ola."

Otis sat back, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Lousy timing," Maeve muttered. "If I had forgiven you, maybe it could have been me kissing you."

"I'm sorry, Maeve," Otis murmured.

"Not your fault," Maeve said, shrugging.

"I betrayed your trust," Otis said.

"Maybe it means the universe doesn't think we're meant to be," Maeve said.

"Fuck the universe," Otis said.

Maeve smiled softly. Hopeful.

"I like you, Maeve," Otis said. "I really like you."

Maeve drew in a slow breath. Hopeful.

"But I hurt you," he said. "I listened to Ola. I made my choice to be with Ola. But I didn't have the guts to tell you in person. You deserved better than that. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Maeve said.

"It does matter," Otis said.

"Eric told me about your dad," Maeve said, quietly.

Otis frowned, annoyed. "He shouldn't have done that."

"He cares about you, Otis," Maeve said.

"What did he say about dad?" Otis asked.

"It's more that it's what he let me understand," Maeve said.

"What do you mean?" Otis asked, frowning.

"Why you did it. Cut me out."

Otis sighed. "God, I wish he hadn't come."

Maeve didn't know what to say.

"I spent my life looking up to him, looking at him as a man I had to aspire to be and now I have to… whatever he does, I have to do the opposite. And I still fucked it up."

"I fucked us up, too," Maeve said.

"Dad has a song about it. I think I've still got it up there."

"Song about what?"

"Fucking up."

"What's it called?"

" _Fuckin' Up_."

"You're not your dad, Otis," Maeve said, quietly.

"How badly did I hurt you?" Otis asked.

"It doesn't—"

"Please," Otis said.

"The message?" Maeve asked, just to be certain.

Otis nodded.

"It made me feel like shit. I thought we were friends, at least, but when you couldn't even be bothered to see me and tell me in person, I felt as if nothing we had was worth anything. I meant that little to you," she said, putting thumb and forefinger together.

"You mean the world to me, Maeve," Otis said.

Maeve swallowed, throat raw.

"But I'm not sure I'm ready to try to see if we can make something work yet," he said.

Maeve's breath hitched and she felt the stinging in her eyes.

"We can be friends," he said, quickly. "We can still be friends."

Maeve relaxed, relieved. "Yeah, that's good."

Otis took in a deep breath, then spoke cautiously, "But I can't do the clinic anymore."

Maeve drew in a surprised breath then said, "Okay."

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "I'll manage."

Otis thought for a moment. "I don't need the money. I never did it for the money. I just wanted to spend time with you. I can give you the money."

"No, it's okay."

Otis nodded. "It's there if you need it."

"Thanks," Maeve said.

They sat in silence for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, then jumped as a crash of breaking glass came from inside.

"Shit," said Otis.

* * *

Otis and Maeve stepped inside and looked around. Otis relaxed when he saw it was only that ugly fruit bowl that mum was always saying she would throw away one day.

"Don't step in it, dickheads," Maeve called.

"I'll get the brushpan," Otis said and hurried away.

Maeve glanced at the clock then walked over to Isaac and Steve.

"You're looking cheery," Isaac said.

Maeve ignored him and turned to Steve. "It's late enough that they can't accuse Otis of throwing a lame party. Do you think you can start moving people along, Steve? Please."

"Sure," said Steve, nodding and standing.

"Thanks," said Maeve.

Steve walked over to the self-appointed music man and silence fell over the room. "Alright, time's up," he called. "Time to move. It's nearly Friday."

The requisite groans rippled through the group but Maeve was pleased to see they started to move.

She saw Otis return from the kitchen and start sweeping up the broken glass.

Isaac glanced across at Otis then looked up at Maeve.

"So you two have a nice chat? Are you friends again?" he said.

Maeve looked at him, pursing her lips and Isaac thought he saw a glint of amusement in her eyes. So he hadn't lost everything. He tilted his head and studied her.

"You're not his girlfriend. You're not happy enough for that. Buuut… there is a strong possibility of a fruitious outcome barring unexpected headwinds," Isaac said, amusing himself at least.

Maeve leant over Isaac and now he could definitely see she was smirking.

"One more word," she said, "and I'll let you make your way up those stairs on your own."

"That is abusive and threatening language for a person in my situation," Isaac said.

"I don't care," Maeve said.

Isaac looked around the room, appreciatively, then looked into Maeve's eyes. "It's a nice place here. I could do with an upgrade. I'm sure they have somewhere to accommodate me. And I bet the food's pretty tasty. My brother can't cook for shit. Don't tell him I said that."

Maeve straightened, amused, and looked around the room, glad to see it was emptying fairly quickly, even gladder that the people she needed were still here. She walked over to them.

Isaac watched her walk away, wistfully. He noticed Otis looking at him and winked.

Maeve stepped up to the four who had helped Isaac down the stairs and asked, "Hey, would you be able to help Isaac back up the stairs?"

They mumbled assent.

"Thanks. Couple of minutes, okay?"

They nodded.

Maeve walked over to Steve. "Hey, Steve," she began, tentatively, "if you can't, no worries, but I'm going to stay here and help Otis clean up. Could you take Isaac home?"

"I can find my own way," Isaac called.

"Which way do you go at the third crossroad?" Maeve asked without turning around. "Left or right?"

"Trick question. Straight through the centre," Isaac said.

Maeve rolled her eyes and looked at Steve.

"It's no problem. I'll take him," Steve said. "And I can come back if you like. Help."

"No, it shouldn't take too long." Maeve looked around and scrunched her face. "Maybe."

"Ready to go?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. You're a gem, Steve. Aimee's really lucky."

"Let me know how she is. And anything I can do to help her."

"I will," Maeve promised.

She turned to Isaac.

"Okay, out the front. On the double," she ordered.

"They say you should leave with the one who brung you," Isaac said. "No offense, Steve, but I'm not sure I am comfortable with these new arrangements."

"I will cook you an omelette," Maeve said, "But I can't promise which day and Otis may be there when we eat it."

"Then if that's the deal, beggars can't be choosers."

"You're getting tired. You're reduced to clichés."

"I told you my brain was dying," Isaac said.

"Out," Maeve said, shaking her head.

Isaac started moving his chair through the room.

"You're making a mistake, you know," Isaac called behind himself. "I'm much more athletic than he is."

Steve smiled at Maeve and started to follow Isaac.

"Thanks, Steve," Maeve said.

Maeve watched them disappear out the front door, then noticed Otis had stepped up beside her.

"I didn't bring him to make you jealous, if that's what you were thinking," Maeve said. "But I think you've made him jealous."

Otis gave her a small smile then they looked around the room, grimacing.

"Mum is going to kill me," Otis said.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I managed to make it understandable how they (Otis/Ola/Maeve) could move from anger to a kind of reconciliation so quickly.
> 
> If not, I'm sorry.
> 
> Next chapter when I can. I know I'm juggling a few stories at the moment but the ideas have kept on coming and I need to strike while the cliché is on fire.


End file.
